Cheeseburger Chips!
by funkydelic sid
Summary: Canada introduces America to Late Night Cheeseburger Doritos. What has he done!


Cheeseburger Chips!

"Mattie! Mattie! Mattie! Mattie! Mattie! CANADIA! ~ " Alfred F. Jones flung open the front door of his twin brothers house and was instantly smacked down with a hockey stick.

"Holy flying fuck Mattie! What's wrong with you?" He screeched, staring up into the oddly glinting eyes of his twin brother.

"What did you say my name was?"

America gaped at the male hovering over him. "Uh, Canadia?"

SMACK went the hockey stick, screech went the American, and "Wrong!" yelled the Canadian. "You've got one more try before I kick you straight to your capital."

"Oh come on, do I really have to say it?"

"Dude. I have _no_ qualms at all about stripping you naked and then tying you into a box with a pink bow and sending you straight to _Francis_, and/or _Ivan_."

"Fineeee. Canadi-" Matthew raised the hockey stick threateningly, and Alfred instantly squealed, "Canada! Canada! _Canada!_"

"Thank you." Canada switched the hockey stick to his left hand and hauled his brother to his feet.

"Dude, seriously, you've got to stop playing hockey with Ivan. It turns you into a creep. Like, hard core creep."

"That's only because you can't play hockey for _ shit_."

"What ever." America ran straight into the living room and flung himself head first onto Canada's couch. Which then began to curse in a combination of German and English. Loudly.

"What the HELL!" Two males immediately fell off the couch and into a heap on the floor.

"Prussia?"

"America?"

America looked stunned, but then his eyes narrowed.

"Prussia? Why are you at Canada's house? And where are your pants?"

Prussia shoved America off of him, and with a smirk, casually said,

"Oh. You know. Me and your brother are just fu-" Matthew leaped across the room and slapped a hand over the Prussian's mouth.

"He's just sleeping over, _right_? And you were just getting dressed, _right?_" He stared meaningfully at the former nation, who apparently got the hint.

"Yeahhh. Just getting dressed. Sure Matt. See you later America!" He winked and then squeezed Canada's ass on his way to the stairs.

Canada squealed, slapping his hand away belatedly, and then turned back to see America talking happily to England on the phone.

"Yeah England! Mattie's totally having a sleepover, so- Hey!" America glared at Canada as he swiped the cell phone and swiftly snapped it shut.

"What do you want Alfred? No, I'm not giving you a rematch for the Olympic hockey game, if that's what you're asking."

"Naw, Matt, I'm here for our food exchange!"

The food exhange had originally been Alfred's idea. Since Canada's fast food chains didn't have the same menus, and sometimes he didn't have the same restaurants at all, America had decided that about once a month he would come visit and deliver food. Great big boxes of food, most often, but sometimes he just brought a few things.

It didn't have to be fast food, either, it could be pop, chips, basically anything that might not be available to Matthew. Matthew, in turn, would give him maple syrup and pancakes, along with just about anything in his house. Alfred, who had a bottomless stomach as it was, had decided that since he was giving food than he could take as much food as he wanted from the pre-existing supply.

Which was why Matthew was staring helplessly at his brother rummaging through his fridge.

"Alright Alfred. What horrible heart attack on a bun did you bring me this time? Or does it have a bun? I'm still trying to deal with that stupid chicken sandwich that you took away the bun and replaced it _with more chicken_. And then you deep fried it. What is wrong with you?And what was that, seriously? Why, Alfred, why?"

"Uh, because I can?" Alfred turned around, a puzzled expression on his face. He was holding a bag of milk in one hand along with a half eaten piece of pizza. "Hey Matt, have I ever told you its horrible weird that you have milk in a bag? So you can't say nothing against the Double Down, which is art in a sandwich, may I add, because you have this weird, thing, you call a milk carton."

"_That_ is a bag of milk. That is something different. And we've got milk cartons too, dumb ass. Oh, I've got something else for you too." He went over to the cupboard, pulled out a bag and threw it at America.

"What is i- Oh my lord." America sunk to the floor, dropping his pizza and stared at the bag in amazement.

"Are these-"

"Yes. Yes they are."

America held in his hands a single bag of Doritos Late Night Cheeseburger Chips.

"Can I... eat them?"

"No Alfred, that's why I gave them to you. To taunt you. Obviously you can eat them, smartie. Go ahead."

America reverently pried the bag open and inhaled deeply.

"These smell so... so... _real_."

Canada chuckled, leaning back on the counter as his brother, still sitting on the floor, pulled out a single chip from the bag.

He gingerly put it in his mouth and chewed.

"I can actually taste the mustard! And the ketchup! I CAN TASTE THE PICKLES! ... These are, just, beautiful. Mattie. Thank you for this beautiful gift." Alfred had stood up, cradling the bag in one arm.

America threw his arms around Canada, who awkwardly patted his back.

"Alfred, are you crying?"

A few weeks later...

Alfred was standing at the front of the room, a bag of chips in one hand, wildly gesturing with his other hand. He was actually eating the chips as he spoke, loudly rattling the bag and spraying chip crumbs all over the table.

Arthur was glowering angrily to himself before he finally yelled,

"Who the FUCK gave him those god awful crisps?"

Canada sank lower in his chair, for the first time actually thanking the fact that he was invisible.

Nobody seemed to be listening as Arthur and Alfred yelled at each other, Alfred insisting that the chips 'taste exactly like McDonald's cheese burgers!' and Arthur screaming about why America had weird names for _everything_.

"What have I done?" Canada murmured, staring at his brother stuffing the chips in his mouth.

"Who?"

"Canada." He answered absent mindedly, sinking even lower into his seat, hoping to melt into it.

"I guess I shouldn't give him the taco flavored ones, huh?"

A/N ~~~~

Hey time travellers, ESPers, and alien life forms! (if these do not apply to you, please do not worry about stopping reading, its ok)

This is epicninjacat and funkydelic sid's first collab fic! Yay! We were inspired when we went out really late to get munchies, because we're awesome like that. We hoped you enjoyed this random story, especially epicninjacat because this is her first fan fiction.

Reviews are awesome!

funkydelic sid & epicninjacat


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